


Cherished

by etotakatsuki



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etotakatsuki/pseuds/etotakatsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is the same after the Tsukiyama Operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherished

**Author's Note:**

> There's a serious lack of Kuramoto/Haise on this website and I am here to fix that.

“I cherish you,” Haise told him once, when his voice was soft and fragile.

Kuramoto had smiled, traced a hand along his cheek, and almost believed him. 

-

He’d always known that it would end. He never tried to fool himself. He knew exactly what he was getting into, from the start. Even if Haise hadn’t known himself.

Kuramoto was a bandage. A temporary comfort. Something meant to hold him together, but never meant to last.

He was something Haise needed, and he was happy to help cover the cracks, to help him stay in one piece as his life threatened to make him fall apart. And if one day, Haise no longer needed him, than it was for the best. It would mean that he’d healed, that he was okay. Kuramoto could live with that.

-

He wakes to an ache in his chest.

Kuramoto forces his heavy eyelids open, blinking away drowsiness, and furrows his brows at his unfamiliar surroundings – sterile white and too-bright lights.

The memories come a moment later, emerging through the fog in his brain – the operation, his squad, the heavy hit to his chest. 

He remembers doubting himself as a leader, gripping his quinque tightly and praying he wouldn’t let his team down. He remembers watching his squadmates fall in front of him while he stood, useless. He remembers the moment when he looked down and realized he could see his own ribs. He remembers thinking he was going to die.

He looks down now, forcing his neck to bend through the stiffness in his muscles. There’s a clean, white bandage stretched across his chest, taped to his skin. He traces the edges of it, and feels the painful sting of his wound. He inhales, and feels a burning ache sink through his chest. And then he does it again, to prove to himself that he’s alive.

-

When the doctors are satisfied that he’s healed enough, they allow Kuramoto to have visitors, finally. For short periods of time a day, so he doesn’t over exert himself. But Kuramoto is grateful.

Bujin is the first. He slips into the room quietly, hanging his head like he’s expecting the worst, but when Kuramoto smiles at him, he smiles back. He pulls up a chair next to Kuramoto, looks at the bandage on his chest, at the wires connecting him to monitors beside the bed, and frowns.

Kuramoto watches him, and wonders if he is going through the same thoughts – blaming himself, asking what he could have done differently, wondering why he came out of that fight alive while the rest of the squad didn’t.

There is so much he wants to say, that he needs to say, but he can’t find the words. He reaches out instead, and Bujin is there to take his hand.

Kuramoto breathes in deep, and relishes the burn.

-

He receives a steady stream of visitors after that. They’re a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and he even manages to put on a smile for his guests.

Take, Akira, Ui – they all visit, joke with him, bring him updates on the situation at the CCG, and pointedly avoid any mention of his squad. Other coworkers, investigators hes worked with before or office employees he knows in passing, stop by too, or send him flowers. Bujin visits him almost daily, and Kuramoto feels his fondness for the kid grow every time. But the person he wants to see the most never appears. 

Each time he hears footsteps stop outside his room, and the quiet click of the door, he allows himself a moment to hope. But that’s all it ever is.

-

Mutsuki visits him once, a few days before he’s discharged.

He brings sweets and well-wishes, tells him that Urie and Yonebayashi are busy or they would have come too, and Kuramoto understands. They have all lost someone, and they are all grieving in their own ways.

Mutsuki doesn’t mention Sasaki, and Kuramoto doesn’t ask.

-

“I like the way I feel when I’m with you,” Haise confessed one evening, tangled together beneath thin sheets.

“I know,” Kuramoto had answered, and leaned in to press their lips together.

-

Kuramoto couldn’t bring himself to hold Haise’s words against him now.

Haise believed them, so Kuramoto accepted them, held them close and pressed to his heart, and let himself keep them for a while.

He clings to them even now, even when he knows he should let them go. He hangs on and thinks about the way it felt when Haise meant them.

-

They had always been discreet, at work. Polite, appropriate.

There were occasional glances across a meeting table that lingered a moment too long. There were brief touches, a hand brushing across a back, an arm, for a moment in passing. There were smiles full of fondness given when no one else was looking.

They kept their distance, and saved their tender moments for each other, when they were alone.

But not like this.

-

Kuramoto had been expecting it, but it still manages to shock him, the first time he catches sight of Sasaki in the halls of the CCG after his return, and he realizes just how much Sasaki has changed.

He seems larger. He is the same size, Kuramoto knows, but his presence has grown, expanding to command the space around him. The crowds in the hall part to let him pass, and Kuramoto realizes that Sasaki is walking straight towards him. 

He stills, watching Sasaki move closer with each passing moment. He feels jittery, but he plasters on a smile and readies a joke to put Sasaki at ease.

But then he is close enough that Kuramoto can see his eyes, and the fake smile drops. Sasaki doesn’t notice.

His eyes are fixed straight ahead, staring without seeing. He draws near, close enough that Kuramoto can reach out to touch him. And then he passes. His back is to Kuramoto, and Kuramoto watches him go, until he turns a corner and is out of sight.

He tells himself it doesn’t hurt, that he can live with it. He almost believes it.


End file.
